


Duet in F Major

by gerbilfluff



Category: Batman: The Brave and the Bold
Genre: Bathroom Sex, College, Consensual Mind Control, M/M, Musicals, Oral Sex, Romance, Sappy, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-01 22:10:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11495748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gerbilfluff/pseuds/gerbilfluff
Summary: The best musicals always involve a young couple falling in love, and the Music Meister's story is no exception.(UPDATED 07.16.2017, because it needed to be better than it was.)





	Duet in F Major

Duet in F Major  
by Apricot the Gerbil  
  
  
_Open curtain._  
  
Their eyes meet from two rows across on the first day of his Principles of Engineering class, and butterflies flood his stomach all over again. He's seen this slim blond fellow earlier in the week, in the theater wing of campus, which is always a good omen. Seeing him a second time, he's just as smitten.  
  
Something about that jawline. A memory stirs. What was that bully's name, with that same narrow chin? Frank? The one he made run into the girls' locker room and do ballerina pirouettes, once upon a time...  
  
He glances over again, just for a moment, to find Not Frank openly staring at him.  
  
He fidgets in his chair, feeling several kinds of self-conscious, all of them blaring at him in minor keys. _Is he staring at my glasses? I bet it's the glasses._ He nudges the eighth-note visor higher up on his nose. Making them seemed like a good idea at the time, as a going-away present for himself at college. Distinct. Unique. Memorable. Just like him, or at least what he'd _like_ to be. But four days into the semester, it's only ended up getting him a lot more odd looks than he's used to.  
  
To his surprise, his classmate winks at him. He can't hold back a doofy gap-toothed smile. _I wonder if he's a tenor. Always had a thing for tenors._  
  
As the instructor drones on about the coming months' curriculum, required textbooks, yadda yadda, he hears a familiar little voice in his head pipe up. _You could have him right now. It'd be SO much easier._  
  
His lip curls in disgust at the thought. Really? Is he seriously _still_ going to be thinking this every time he sees someone cute?  
  
_You could bend him over his desk and take him until he's screaming for more. Have the whole class give you both a standing ovation afterwards._  
  
He rolls his eyes behind his glasses. No hypnotizing people to try falling in love with him, much less to have sex. That's his ONE rule. Sure, supervillainy sounds way more entertaining than being a stuffy old hero, but some lines, he won't cross.  
  
_You've walked out of the cafeteria all week without paying a dime._  
  
_That's DIFFERENT._  
  
_No one could stop you. You could be singing the alphabet._  
  
He lets out a sigh, drumming a pencil against his cheek idly. _Ignoring the fact that it would be NO FUN, I'm not having this argument anymore._  
  
Besides, he still has that restraining order mess from high school to remind him not to get too enthusiastic with his... special talents. His partial band scholarship to Gotham U is riding on him not adding any more strikes to his record for the next four years. You'd _think_ getting the entire starting defensive unit of the football team to follow Jenny Swanson home and ask her to go to the prom with him in eleven-part harmony would've made a better impression, but girls sure could be a mystery sometimes.  
  
Not guys, though. He understands his fellow fellows a lot better. Sometimes, he just doesn't _feel_ like composing a whole new three-verse rhyming earworm to woo someone in all the ways musical theater has to offer. Sometimes, as the Rolling Stones would say, he just needs to get his rocks off.  
  
He glances over at his newest crush again. He knows which he's feeling like today.  
  
_If you're set on not using your voice, you could at least make a new costume to wow the socks off him. Maybe something after the Red Death from Phantom of the Opera? With less skulls? Ooh, and in purple!_  
  
He blinks at this. Sometimes, the evil part of him _does_ have some good ideas. Shelve that one. Maybe later.  
  
After class, he sidles up to Not Frank's desk and starts with a simple "Textiles 101 isn't until ten  tomorrow morning. You want to get some coffee before then?"  
  
There. No powers. Just his best attempt at a knowing smirk.  
  
Not Frank smirks back up at him from his seat. "Coffee. Is that what you're really after? Or are we talking a date?"  
  
Bold. That's always nice. And he's got the most endearing tenor lilt. Score!  
  
He fumbles to find his next words. Hypnotizing others to do what he wants is one thing, but he's not really all that direct a person otherwise...  
  
_But this is college,_ the little voice says. _College is all about finding new sides of yourself, right? Maybe you ARE the direct type if you try._  
  
He's standing there like a fool. His classmate's looking at him. What should he say?!  
  
_The worst you can hear is "no," right? Maybe have to dodge a punch? You can work with that._  
  
He clears his throat, hoping not to sound too nervous. Sets a hand on Not Frank's desk and bends to lean in nice and close, his voice dipping deep and sly. "Well, that's unless... you want a little something right now?"  
  
"Wow. Right out of the gate." Not Frank's brow quirks upwards in amusement. "Let me guess. Now that you're free from Mom and Dad, you're raring to try some stuff out, huh?" he says cooly. "You're a _little_ eager. Just a little."  
  
"Oh," he replies, shoulders sagging. He can almost feel little hearts cracking in twain over his head. "Sorry. I didn't mean..."  
  
His classmate shrugs. "Hey, don't get me wrong. I think it's cute. Those glasses, too. Where'd you find those?"  
  
_He likes my glasses!_ He wants to dance around the room. _HE LIKES MY GLASSES!_  
  
"I-- I made them. Thanks," he says. _These were SO worth the five hours in shop class!_ "But I'm trying to learn how to build a whole lot more than just glasses. Ergo, engineering." He winces as the words leave his mouth. _Ergo?! What was that?_  
  
"Wait a sec. The glasses, building stuff..." Not Frank smiles wide, like he's figured out a secret. "You trying to make yourself a superhero or something? Like a new Batman?"  
  
His pulse leaps from zero to _presto_ in seconds. _Is he joking? Am I that obvious?!_  
  
He gives his classmate a dismissive chuckle. "Not quite."  
  
Not Frank rests his hands under that narrow chin of his with rapt interest. "Promise I won't tell anyone. What's your secret hero name going to be?"  
  
_Music Meister. Say it. 'Music Meister.'_  
  
_God, it sounds so stupid._  
  
_...I wonder if he'll think it's cute._  
  
That last thought pushes it out of him. "The Music Meister?"  
  
Not Frank gets the superior look of somebody who guessed right. "See, I heard there was a guy here for that last semester. I always wonder how many people are in this class to be the next cape on the news. Me, I just want to work with computers and be set for life." He pauses. Tilts his head. Then extends a hand to him. "Gregory."  
  
"Oh. Uh... I'm..." He tugs at his shirt collar, then clasps his much larger hand over Gregory's, shaking back. His voice falters. His name on paper sounds drab, too small for him, all of a sudden.  
  
"You're the Music Meister," Gregory finishes for him matter-of-factly. "Pleasure meeting you. Can I call you MM for short?"  
  
"Sure!" he chuckles. He didn't know it was possible to be _this_ enamored by another person before. _YOU'RE getting a musical number. No, TWO musical numbers. Maybe I'll rope in the frat boys next door, he might like that. I have the perfect matching outfits in mind..._  
  
Gregory's smirk returns. "So, MM. What was that about you wanting a little something right now?" he asks playfully.  
  
_MM. He called me MM~!_  
  
He brings himself back to reality with a shake of his head. "Oh. Right. _That_. I mean." He's started blushing, he can feel it. "I mean I'd _like_ that, but. I get it, we just met, and..." He slouches a little more with every fragment of the sentence: "I've never really. Done anything physical before. Right after meeting someone."  
  
Gregory smiles wider. " _I_ have."  
  
MM blinks in surprise at his classmate. "Really?" His hands twist against each other behind his back. "Think you'd mind, er. Showing me the ropes sometime? Only if you really want to, I mean."  
  
"Hmm. Depends. You _are_ really cute." Gregory looks off to the side in thought. "You mind a bathroom? There's not really many other places on campus you can get away with much."  
  
MM stares back at him, stunned. "What, right now?"  
  
"Sure, why not? Start the semester off with a bang." Gregory stands from his desk and slings his bookbag over his shoulder, giving MM another smirk. "Though I'm not too up on superhero code. Isn't public sex against the law?"  
  
At this, a wicked grin slides onto MM's face. "Never said I want to be a hero."  
  
Gregory nods. "Fair enough." He struts off for the door. "Well, come on, bad boy. Let's go do some crimes."  
  
_Cue curtain._  
  
\---------  
  
_The curtain raises. Interior - the nearest men's room handicapped stall._  
  
MM's pulse is thundering in his ears. _This is actually happening. I can't believe this is actually HAPPENING._  
  
His cock is harder than Flight of the Bumblebee against the inseam of his pants as he feels Gregory's fingers running over his hips from behind. Sliding underneath the tails of his shirt and sweater vest. Toying over his nipples. And back out again, to squeeze his ass through his pants with both hands, growling to his ear.  
  
A shy whimper escapes him when Gregory tugs down the zipper to his fly. He hears a hum of approval, as his classmate eases seven eager inches free from treble-clef-print boxers. "Damn. You could rob a bank with this monster!" Gregory murmurs against his back, stroking the dusky pink prick up and down.  
  
"I don't have..." _Words. What's the word._ "Any protection," MM mumbles nervously.  
  
"Relax." Gregory spins him around so they're face to face, then settles down onto his knees. " _You're_ not getting more than a blowjob until I get to know you." He rolls his eyes, adding, "Trust me, trying to do anything more than that in a bathroom stall is the _worst."_  
  
"Oh," is all MM gets out, before Gregory takes him in one hand and starts suckling his cockhead with an embouchure that would stun an oboist. After that, there's not much coherent coming out of his mouth.  
  
It's all he can do to not burst into song when Gregory slurps the shaft in further and rolls both his tongue and wrist around in a slow, wet corkscrew, but no. He wouldn't dare. This is playing out _far_ better on its own than he could've imagin--  
  
They both jerk to silence at footsteps from outside. They've been so occupied, neither of them noticed the door opening. MM's hands dart to cover his mouth. He looks down to see Gregory staring back up at him with wide, uncertain eyes, deathly still, cock sagging partway from his lips.  
  
"Hey. Who all's in there?" comes a gruff voice from the other side of the wall.  
  
MM grits his teeth. He could solve this problem right now, but that would mean...  
  
There's a heart-stopping _BANG BANG_ of a fist against the stall. A blur of motion through the cracks in the door. Someone's trying to look inside.  
  
MM draws a deep breath.  
  
_"There's nothing here for you to see, my very nosy friend._  
_So go about your business now, and let that be the end!"_  
  
The two of them stay motionless as the footsteps clack over to the nearest urinal for what MM swears is the longest, most agonizing piss he's ever had to wait through. Whoever it is leaves without washing his hands.  
  
Gregory backs away enough to get MM's now much softer dick out of his mouth. "We need to go," he says, his voice low and panicky. "Zip up. Security's gonna be here any minute!"  
  
"It's okay! Really," MM assures him. "I... sang him away."  
  
"What are you talking about?! We need to MOVE."  
  
"Trust me. He's not gonna bother us anymore!"  
  
Gregory lets out an aggravated sigh, bringing a hand to his forehead. "Okay, I have NO idea what's going on right now, but the moment's officially dead. And if we don't get out of here _quick_ , so are we."  
  
MM frowns at the limpness between his legs. Can't argue there. He tucks himself back into his boxers, shuffling his pants back up.  
  
"Meet me by the fountain, okay?" he says to the young man still on his knees before him, then pauses. "Or not. You don't have to. But I'll be there." And with that, he leaves the stall.  
  
_Cue curtain._  
  
\---------  
  
_The curtain opens. Exterior scene - a small bench before the Wayne Memorial Sculpture Fountain._  
  
He's only been staring at the burbling water for a few minutes when Gregory walks up to the bench he's seated at, arms crossed defensively.  
  
"So, you gonna tell me what happened back there, or...?" his classmate asks flatly.  
  
"I-- I saved our butts?" MM stammers.  
  
"By _singing?"_  
  
MM smiles back apologetically, tapping a hand to his chest. "Music Meister. It's... a thing I can do. I sing, people follow."  
  
"Shut. UP." Gregory sits down next to him on the bench, looking genuinely shocked. "You didn't tell me you can do _actual_ super stuff!"  
  
"...I usually wait 'till after the first date?"  
  
"I can't believe I just sucked a for-real supervillain's dick," the blond says, reeling. He grips MM by the arm. "Oh my god. PLEASE say superpowers are like reverse STDs. I've always wanted to fly!"  
  
"I don't think it works that way," MM admits.  
  
"I'm willing to find out," Gregory's quick to reply, raising a coy eyebrow.  
  
MM shifts in discomfort, raising a hand to stop the idea there. "You were right. The moment's gone for now." His eyes narrow behind his glasses. "Though I _suppose_ I could always..." He trails off, staring intently at his classmate.  
  
Gregory blinks back at him. "What?"  
  
MM takes the smaller man's hands in his. "Um. This is gonna be weird, but. Can you trust me if I tell you, this is going to feel really, _really_ good?"  
  
"O...kay?" Gregory replies, looking less than convinced.  
  
"I mean it. Tell me to stop if you don't like it." With that, MM takes a slow breath in and out. In again...  
  
And he starts to sing.  
  
No words, this time. Just a stirring, unfamiliar melody, pouring from his throat, low and sweet and rich with vibrato.  
  
"Oh, god," Gregory whispers, feeling his body start to sway along in steady 4/4 time, without him ever thinking of moving. His breath picks up into staccato huffs. The sound seems to be resonating all the way through him, vibrating his every nerve ending with pleasure, pleasure, pleasure...  
  
The blond's hips are soon fluttering forward in a jerky 6/8, and he loses it, arching into a glorious moan as he claws at the bench handrest: "Oh _god_ I'm-- _aaa~!"_  
  
As he speaks, everyone within a half-mile of the university campus stops and shivers in sudden, inexplicable ecstacy.  
  
MM watches the crotch of Gregory's pants slowly darken, his smile beaming.  
  
Through ragged pants for breath, Gregory shakes his head in amazement. "You... can make people come... by SINGING?"  
  
"Well. It's really the least I can do, for such a great performance earlier. Shame it only works on other people," says MM, adding as an afterthought, "Though I guess I'd never get much done if it worked on me..."  
  
When he stands and offers Gregory a hand from the bench, his classmate jumps up and smooches MM on the cheek, hard. "My hero," he says.  
  
"Shucks," is all MM can say through his grin.  
  
_Cue curtain._  
  
\--------  
  
_The curtain draws back, to two weeks later._  
  
MM shifts his arms together nervously behind the half-open door. "I'm not so sure about this."  
  
"It'll be great! Just let me see."  
  
He walks out, festooned from head to toe in purple and green.  
  
"Wow," Gregory says, eyes wide as saucers. "It's... um..."  
  
"It looks _ridiculous_ , doesn't it," MM says, slumping back towards his dorm room.  
  
"No, no no! It's _you_ ," Gregory's quick to clarify. "You look amazing! Honest. I was just thinking." He purses his lips together, reaching to point along the front panel of the suit. "I mean, you're a theater major, and _this_ is your best crotch seam? That's gonna unravel after five minutes of walking around, is all I'm saying."  
  
"So... you like it?" MM's tooth gap quirks into view with his smile.  
  
Gregory's head tilts, checking the side seams. "Let me go grab my kit. I'm gonna show you some shortcuts that'll blow your mind..."  
  
_End scene._  
  
\---------  
  
_The curtain opens. Interior - the same dorm room, some time later._  
  
MM tugs the bottom edge of the condom he's sporting, making sure it won't slide off. "You SURE you're sure about this?"  
  
Gregory shucks off his briefs the rest of the way, then crawls onto the bedsheets. "For the last time, _yes_. I'm not saying it again."  
  
"Okay." MM takes a deep breath, then adds, "The safe word is 'Batman'."  
  
"...Huh. Will I be able to say a safe word if I'm hypnotized?"  
  
This knocks MM off-guard. He grips the lube bottle in his other hand harder. "I've never DONE this before, okay?"  
  
Gregory chuckles. "Okay, okay. Let 'er rip."  
  
MM clears his throat.  
  
_"I've heard there was a secret chord_  
_That David played, and it pleased the Lord..."_  
  
Gregory's eyes widen in awe. "Oh _wow_. I can hear the orchestra, how are you..."  
  
_"But you don't really care for music, do ya?"_  
  
His expression glazes over, and he's gone.  
  
_"It goes like this_  
_The fourth, the fifth_  
_The minor fall, the major lift..."_  
  
Gregory stretches back along the mattress with a dancer's grace, spreading his legs wide.  
  
_"The baffled king composing Hallelujah..."_  
  
MM presses inside. Starts timing gentle thrusts to the syllables, as his hands wrap underneath Gregory's back.  
  
_"Hallelujah, Hallelujah..."_  
  
Gregory's head lolls back, as he begins keening along in mindless harmony.  
  
_"Hallelujah..."_  
  
They hit their climax as one, right on the final beat.  
  
"Hallelujah," he whispers to the body slowly shivering back to consciousness under his.  
  
_"Fuck,"_ is all Gregory can pant back.  
  
_Cue curtain._  
  
\----------  
  
_The curtain draws open. Interior - a diner, milling with people._  
  
The front door slams wide open, creaking on its hinges.  
  
The busy roomful of customers stare at the two men-- one redheaded, the other blond, both in matching green vests-- literally waltzing their way inside, spinning and twirling to the jukebox in the far corner. The larger man with the music-note glasses whips out an arm, smashing the glass-front display, to place his own record on the spindle.  
  
No one says a word as the record cues up the finale of "Hello Dolly!". Instead, they all rise from their seats as one, taking their places in even rows along either side of the restaurant to sway along in time.  
  
A lone flute plays higher, shining like a jewel held to the light from against the rest of the background score. The Music Meister extends his hand to his partner.  
  
_"And that is all._  
_That love's about..."_  
  
Gregory skips a few paces away and back again, closing the distance with a twirl. He croons the soprano part in his honeyed tenor, eyes shining bright.  
  
_"And we'll recall_  
_When time runs out..."_  
  
Their hands clasp, voices rising and falling together in perfect tone.  
  
_"That it only._  
_Took, a moment._  
_To be loved_  
_Our whole, life, looong~."_  
  
The other customers stir to life once more, murmuring their confusion to each other as they return to their seats. The two men share a strong, heartfelt kiss, unashamed by the many stares they're getting.  
  
"Happy six months," MM says to Gregory warmly, their foreheads touching.  
  
"Okay, you're right, that _was_ a great idea," the smaller man gushes back.  
  
They stride out together, arm in arm.  
  
A cook comes out from the back, yelling "What the hell--?!" at the glass strewn about the floor.  
  
_Cue curtain._  
  
\---------  
  
_EPILOGUE_  
_The curtain opens. Interior - a shopping mall in Star City._  
  
"So, where you thinking for supper?"  
  
Before Gregory can answer, "Night on Bald Mountain" begins trilling faintly from his trouser pocket. He clenches the handles of his shopping bags tight at the sound.  
  
"Just a sec," he says to his partner. He digs to grab and flip open his cell phone with his free hand, clicks Decline Call, and flips the phone shut with a satisfying _clack_. "I dunno, maybe Chinese?"  
  
Patrick remarks, "Huh. I've never heard that ringtone before. Who was it?"  
  
Gregory rolls his eyes. "Just somebody that I used to know. Don't get me started." He frowns, as his phone chimes out Mussorgsky a second time. Another click. "Denied," he says in a singsong.  
  
He hears the _plink!_ of a new text.  
  
_Why did we ever break up?_  
  
Gregory breathes out, very slowly.  
  
_How did you get this number?_ he sends back.  
  
_You don't know what you left behind. You could have had it all._  
  
A memory flickers. It was raining that night. The Music Meister's screaming at him through a faceful of tears, looking utterly betrayed.  
  
Gregory texts back, _YOU left because I wouldn't throw away my Spice Girls CDs._  
  
_Even a supervillain has STANDARDS._ >B(  
  
_I'm turning my phone off._  
  
_I never stopped loving you, you know._  
  
Gregory stares at his phone for a long moment. His eyes close.  
  
He's about to snap the phone shut when he hears another _plink!_  
  
_I know you still carry earplugs._  
_You've got 60 seconds to put them on._  
_Enjoy the show._  
_-MM_  
  
Patrick frowns, seeing his partner's phone drop from his hand. "What's up, hun?"  
  
The shopping bags fall to the ground. Gregory rustles through his pockets wildly. "That bitch. That little prima donna _bitch_..." He tears a tiny plastic bag open, sealing his ears shut with bright orange plugs.  
  
"Who? What's going--" The mall's PA system crackles. Patrick jerks to alertness, looking every which way. "Do you hear that? What IS..."  
  
And that's all Patrick gets out, before his arms are raising over his head, following unheard stage directions.  
  
Gregory watches the man prance about, along with everybody else in the mall, moving as one. Their mouths open and shut in song, and Gregory has just enough lip-reading under his belt to know exactly what they're saying.  
  
_The Music Meister_  
_sings the song_  
_that the world wants to hear!_  
  
A paunchy mall cop takes a flying leap over his bags on the way to the nearest bank. The TV screens in the nearby store window flicker to a face he hasn't seen in years. The glasses haven't changed.  
  
_So let's not fight,_  
_let's get along,_  
_for our hypnotic profiteer!_  
  
"I'll be damned." And Gregory laughs, shaking his head at the magic taking place all around him. He snaps a photo with his phone, then lets his arms fall limp at his sides. What else can he do?  
  
Not every day you get to witness the greatest performance on Earth.  
  
  
\- fin -


End file.
